=The House of Mirth.= By Edith Wharton. Charles Scribner’s Sons.
Undoubtedly no novel during the past season has elicited more favorable
criticism and more numerous letters from constant readers than “The
House of Mirth.” The book had a certain artificial success from the
start, because the impression went abroad that here at last was a book
about Society, meaning the smallest number of the narrowest brains in
any community from Kankakee to New York. On this very account there are
a few millions of people in the United States who would not care to read
it; but in view of the fact that some of the most serious critics have
hailed “The House of Mirth” as a great American novel—only the bookseller
now speaks of _the_ American novel—a good many of the few millions, being
persons of means and intelligence, would be tempted to indulge themselves
in the rare luxury of such a boon. We cannot profess to treat the book as
a true picture of American Society; because while we know how to wear the
clothes and order the things to eat and drink, when we have the money,
we have never, in our best-dressed and best-fed moments, been able to
convince ourselves that we are anything but hopelessly middle class. Yet
we are happy—sometimes; and we are bound to marvel at some of the things
the society people in “The House of Mirth” do. For the most part they act
like those people in New York who are loosely described as Fifth-avenue
bohemians, which means they are people of much money, thoroughly informed
about the decorative issues of life, with nothing to do but bore
themselves and with a taste and intelligence that, in literature or the
theatre, never craves anything more exciting than a musical show or a
third-class novel, written by a man in Chicago, about lords and ladies
of some corner lost and forgotten in Continental Europe. Our marvel that
these society people should seem so underbred is only an exhibition of
our unfamiliarity with a certain social stratum. We would have no right
to make record of it, if it were not for the fact that so many people, of
the better class themselves, have written letters of protest to divers
publications, protesting against the impression that “The House of Mirth”
is a story accurately representing New York society. We quote one letter
from the _New York Times Saturday Review_:
“I am not a literary man, much less a literary critic, but
I look forward each week to the appearance of _The New York
Times Book Review_ with renewed interest and read the various
criticisms of your readers as to the merits of “The House of
Mirth,” which in almost every instance meets their approval as
a literary production of unusual merit. The writer, however, an
octogenarian, born and bred in New York City, member of one of
its oldest families and presumably familiar with its society,
can but look upon “The House of Mirth” as a gross libel upon
that society, and as an insult to a class as pure, as refined,
and as intellectual as may be found the world over....
“That such a condition as is therein described does exist in
the lower strata of New York society, which may be termed
swelldom, composed largely of “newrich” who swarm from other
parts of the country to exploit their newly acquired wealth in
showy equipages, wondrous wardrobes, and loud manners to the
disgust of refined people, cannot be denied; but why a lady
who has the entrée into the best society should elect to open
the sewers of its lowest strata and allow its fœtid airs to
escape through the medium of her pen is beyond the ken of your
contributor.”